


He was your friend

by LadyRamora



Category: FFXIV, Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Angst, Don't like, Don't read, Other, Spoilers for The Vault, This story contains implied Haurchefant x Warrior of Light
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-06
Updated: 2015-07-06
Packaged: 2018-04-08 02:02:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4286445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyRamora/pseuds/LadyRamora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A smile better suits a hero.</p>
            </blockquote>





	He was your friend

_**He was your friend** _

His face goes slack as his head drops, the only sound made the soft final shifting of his armor. Your tremulous smile breaks and you feel something inside you shatter.

You think it might have been what was left of your heart. The bitter pressure of your tears that had been clogged in your throat finally floods out of you in harsh helpless sobs.

Without a thought you push Ser Aymeric aside, taking his place cradling the broken body of your friend. No. He was more. He was almost... They were almost... Almost. Something more.

Your tears drip on his face. You use them with the drag of your sleeve to clean the drying blood around his mouth. He looks like he's sleeping.

If not for the blood pooling around you and soaking into your armor, you could almost believe he's just sleeping.

He's already cold.

It should have been you, you think. What use to be a Warrior of Light if you could not save the people most important to you.

Your skin still hums faintly with protection magic. Maybe that would have been enough. Maybe. If only you were faster, more clever, had done it any other way. You could have saved him.

You don't know how long you stay there, his body draped across your lap in the cold. You don't know how you manage it, but he is gone and you are standing in Fortemp Manor.

You stare at his father's back. He begs you not to say anything.

You don't.

What could you say when you can't think. Can't feel. Numbness spreads though you and you use it as your shield. Rage is simmering in the back of your mind. It will be your weapon.

But for now, as you push yourself to shuffle through the city as if part of you has not died, you force a smile on your face.

A smile better suits a hero.

You don't feel like one. But he did not like that look you know your face will want to make. So you paste on this smiling mask.

A citizen stops you on your way by, commenting on what a sight for sore eyes you are, smiling amongst all these unhappy people. You don't correct her.

She asks you to offer soup to those in need of cheering up.

Soup, you pause. It had not been so long ago that he had offered you some.

A hot mug of tea or hot chocolate, that you had not tasted after losing your friends so suddenly. You wish you had now. He would offer soup to these people. You agree to help.

You stand back and watch. Soup. Company offers these people comfort. Your chest aches as you yearn sharply for such good company that you had lost.

You hand your soup off to a drifting passerby, untouched.

You've found what you need.

Revenge won't bring him back.

You know that.

But from the beginning, you have always been rather good at killing.

To the ends of the earth, you won't stop until you hunt them down.

It was what he would have done.

**Author's Note:**

> Tbh, I sobbed like a baby during that cutscene. I cried for like 20 minutes afterward. I was depressed for a week. I'm still sad, but it doesn't hurt as much as it did. Until I go to bed at night, that is. Then I stare at my ceiling, turn on my memo pad on my phone and type out small stories.


End file.
